Melting
by The Pigeon One
Summary: He isn't happy that I'm doing these things. He acts like I'm exclusively his, and that bothers me. I want him gone, and yet, when he takes me in to his arms, I can't help but melt.


I wrote this entire thing in an email because my computer crashed and I no longer have word and I am very sad. So if I don't catch grammatical errors, don't shoot me. This takes place right after the new reboot, so Babs has her legs back.  
>Also, this is my new OTP. At least in terms of the real world Batman, not the animated Teen Titans. I still love RaeRob.

Melting

A Dibs Oneshot

"He quoted Casablanca to me. How was I supposed to say no? You know I have a weakness for that movie."

Dick wasn't happy with the situation. I'd only been functional on my legs for a few months, but against what he called my "better judgement" (which was really just his better judgement) I had gone out to do a little errand running, simply because I could. I hadn't taken him with me, or even told him I was going, something he seemed perpetually mortified by, and when I came back from the grocery store that afternoon, struggling on my unsteady legs with bags full of food in my arms, he was leaning against the counter in my kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and a mean expression on his face. He didn't move to help me, something I had actually anticipated, the newly red emblem on his uniform moving up in down with the rhythm of his breathing. It was obvious that he had just come off duty, heading straight for my place when he hadn't heard from me.

"I'm not Oracle anymore, Dick," I told him, setting down my groceries on the counter and heading out to get the rest from the car.

He followed me out and at least took some of the bags for me, frowning darkly the entire time and not saying a word. I slammed the trunk shut behind me and walked back into the apartment, hoping that no one would notice the local vigilante helping the ex-paraplegic girl with her groceries. He always seemed to get just a little bit careless around me, and it had lead to more than a few close calls in the past.

This wasn't the past, though, and I wasn't going to be Oracle anymore. Things were going to change, and on some baser level, I think he knew it.

He helped me put my food anyway, which I was thankful for. My legs, though they worked, were about as unsteady as a two day old giraffe's, and spending too much time on them was likely to end in disaster.

I didn't want to thank him; this was the first time I had seen him in months, and he hadn't come by to check on me after the surgery. Three months I'd had my legs, and he hadn't come to see me. This was the first time in years he had seen me walking, and I felt almost betrayed by his lack of caring.

"You can go home now, Dick," I told him as he settled back against the counter, scowling. "The groceries are put away and since you obviously came to do nothing but glare at me, you can go now."

His expression softened for a moment, but then he was right back to looking at me as if I'd done something unspeakable horrible. I sighed and sat down on the couch, flicking on the tv. "When you're ready to speak to me, Nightwing, you're more than welcome to the change of clothes that I keep for you under my bathroom sink. Until then, buzz off. I don't like it when you act like you're Batman."

I could see him hold back flinching at my offhanded statement; he was still sore about Bruce forcing him to be Nightwing again. Normally, I would had felt terribly about saying such a thing, but I was angry at him for abandoning me at such a pivotal time in my life. I sat down on the couch and watched him from the corner of my eye. If he had actually come to talk to me, he wasn't showing any signs of making conversation. Not an unusual thing for the ex-Boy Wonder when he was angry - and he clearly was angry, though it was anyone's guess why.

I sighed and shifted on the couch. He could stare at me all he wanted - I wasn't going to speak to him if all I was going to do was glare at me. If he wanted to pretend that he wanted to throw years of friendship down the drain, that was fine with me. With him acting like such an asshat, I didn't want him around anyway.

"Barbara," he finally said, uncrossing his arms but not making any move towards me. I looked at him before turning on the t.v. and flipping channels. His tone hadn't been cold, but rather the unemotional monotone that I had come to associate with his Batman persona. It wasn't a side of Dick that I liked to deal with.

I stared ahead at the television as I spoke to him; if he was going to play cold and unemotional, so was I. "Don't talk to me like that, Richard. You know I'm not going to tolerate it."

I could hear his sharp intake of breath and knew it's cause. I never called hm Richard, save for when I was either deadly serious or deadly angry. He knew it, had had years to figure it out, and he knew that nothing serious, at least in the way of life or death situations, was occurring. He had deduced that I was angry.

If he were a smart boy, he would leave it at that; run back through the window he had come in through and be on his patrol shift, which started in fifteen minutes. But when it had come to me, he was never intelligent enough to do the smart thing.

He walked over to me and sat down beside me. I could feel the couch sink, and it made me dizzy to be so near to him. It had been so long, since long before I'd regained my legs, that he had been so close, and I found myself a little more than uncomfortable at how close he was sitting to me.

I leaned back against the back of the couch and crossed my arms with an indignant sigh of exasperation. There was a hair on my nose that had fallen out of its place, and tired to blow it out of my face. It didn't work, but before I could lift even a finger to remove it, Dick had reached out and tucked it behind my ear. I huffed again, and sank further into the couch. I didn't want him in my apartment any more than I wanted to see Dinah and Ollie making out on my doorstep.

"Babs," he said, and I could feel my back stiffen in response.

"You have no right to call me Babs right now, Richard. I'm so angry at you I could just spit. Honestly, I think it's just best if you leave."

He sighed and didn't move. "Barbara, I know that I should have come to see you. But I was worried that you wouldn't want to see me and so I stayed away. When Bruce told me that you were going out shopping for the first time, I tailed you, and then I heard that guy ask you out on a date..."

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "Oh, so that's what this is about? He moved in on your territory, so you're coming to make sure that she knows she's yours? Well guess what? She isn't yours, so back off, pal. Learn to stop while you're ahead."

He shook his head, his shiny ebony hair falling into his face. "That's not why I'm here," he insisted, though I knew he was lying; whether he knew it or not was another story. "I just wanted to know why you told him yes."

"He quoted Casablanca to me. How was I supposed to say no? You know I have a weakness for that movie."

He looked at me skeptically and I sighed for what seemed the millionth time that night. "You know, you should just go home. I don't really want you here right now and all you're doing is pissing me off."

He ran a gloved hand through his hair, ruffling the silken black tresses that had driven so many women - myself included - wild. He looked conflicted, and it was obvious that he didn't want to leave. Something else was on his mind, that much was clear to me. I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to hear whatever it was.

"Can't you just tell me why you told him yes? That's all I want to know."

Frustrated and not a little angry, I jumped up from the couch and stood threateningly in front of him. "It's none of your damn business, you nosy brown-noser!" I exclaimed leaning down and pointing my finger at him. "You forfeited the right to know about my dating life a long time ago! So get out of my house, Richard! Get out!"

He stood, his expression carefully blank, and hovered in front of me, as if he were unsure what to do. I crossed my arms, glaring at him, and waited for him to move.

We stood that way for a long time, him staring innocently at me as I glared at him, all but daring him to say something that was going to make me yell at him again.

It was probably because he was still wearing his mask that I hadn't seen the decision form in his eyes. I was surprised when his hand was at the nape of my neck, so surprised that I didn't have it in me to be surprised when his lips were on mine.

I couldn't help it when I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. For all the bad blood between us, I couldn't deny that he had been my first love, and for all the times he had betrayed me, I still always let him in when he came calling. It seemed that Richard Grayson was my biggest weakness.

Realizing what I was doing, I replaced my arms at my side and pushed Dick away with as much force as I could manage. "What's wrong with you?" I yelled as my push caused him to fall back on the couch.

He smiled up at me, the smile that made every woman ever to see it need to catch her breath. " I was informed that you were the most beautiful woman ever to visit Gotham. That was a gross understatement."

My eyes widened and I looked at him in disbelief. Casablanca had come up in conversation, once, and he had told me that he had never seen it. "So now you're quoting Casablanca, too? You haven't even seen it!"

I stormed off towards the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea, a drink I had acquired a taste for in the aftermath of my surgery. I could feel his eyes watch me as I stuck a cup of water in the microwave, following my every movement.

"I have seen it, you know," he said, and I jumped as I realized he was right behind behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and turned me to face him. "True, it was recently, but I really liked it."

I looked up at him and noticed that he had taken his mask. "This isn't your fight to fight, Dick." I whispered, clenching my fist at my side, trying to prevent myself from touching his face. "We were over a very long time ago."

He smiled sadly and took one of his hands away from my waist and put it to my face. "We were never over, Babs, not really. You're the only one I always come back to. The only one."

I couldn't help myself as I put my head on his chest. "I know. And you're the one I always come back to. But that needs to stop now. We can't keep getting jealous of each other when someone takes one or the other of us out. We... I need to get over you. And you need to get over me. We can't do this anymore."

He took a deep breath and I felt his hand pulling my chin up so that I would meet his gaze. "I'm not getting over you, Babs. I've tried, believe me."

He kissed me again and I felt like I had when I was first Batgirl and he was Robin and he had kissed me when we were on patrol. I felt the tears start to pool in my eyes; I missed those days, and I wanted them back. Those were simpler times, times when we were the only people that meant anything to each other. The days before Kori, before Helena, before any of the other girls. When it was just us on a rooftop, reflecting on the day and keeping an eye on the city. His hand would find mine and we would lace our fingers together and just sit. Perfect.

His hand found mine now and the memories hit me full force. I was melting and I knew it. Melting in his arms. Always melting in his arms. 


End file.
